


Aftermath

by phantom_of_the_keurig



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Darth Vader (Comics), Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Cody doesn't know what's going on and nothing makes sense, Hurt No Comfort, Other, Post Order 66, Purge Troopers are kinda cool but also yikes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:08:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24274840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantom_of_the_keurig/pseuds/phantom_of_the_keurig
Summary: “The final batch of clones delivered from Kamino form a special death squad for the Inquisitorius, also known as purge troopers, who are equipped to help Darth Vader and the Inquisitors hunt down the last of the Jedi Order.”In the dawn of the new Galactic Empire, Commander Cody finds his place in the Galaxy.
Comments: 40
Kudos: 98





	Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sort of prologue to a future fic I have in the works, but can also be read entirely on its own as a one off story. Some dialogue is ripped from the Darth Vader comics, but everything else is mine. Special thanks to my friend epsiloneridani for all her help and encouragement. Enjoy :)

* * *

_ “Never again will we fear the Jedi!” _

The broadcast panned to the crowd gathered outside the Jedi Temple. There were thousands of them, more than the holocam could fit into frame. They clung to every word that oozed from Mas Amedda’s mouth, their cheers growing more and more hysterical by the second.

Cody thought the Chagrian looked a little  _ too _ eager as he spoke of the treachery of the Jedi. He suddenly felt very cold, as if he had been stripped of his armor and dunked in a bacta tank. It made him shudder, and he crossed his arms over his chest.

Clearly, the other troopers huddled around the holocaster with him didn’t share his sense of unease. They cheered right along with the crowd. Shouts of praise and admiration for Amedda came from somewhere behind him, while another brother cursed the Jedi and their wicked Order. Both declarations were met with rambunctious agreement, and someone clapped Cody on the shoulder, making him flinch. Their excitement was infectious, and it quickly spread to the shinies stuck on the outside of their huddle, who had lost out on a prime spot by the holocaster to their older, stronger brothers.

_ “Never again will their instruments of oppression terrorize the galaxy!” _

The holocam followed as Amedda motioned to the clones beside him. Cody watched as the troopers in the holovid stood before the mouth of the incinerator that had been placed on the steps of the Jedi Temple. The admiration of the crowd swelled into a fierce, explosive roar as the troopers began dumping a cascade of lightsabers into the fiery maw of the incinerator. The hanger bay around him erupted into thunderous celebration.

His eye twitched. His temples began to throb. Another crate of lightsabers was brought forward, and they too joined the inferno. He hadn’t been able to locate the  _ traitor’s _ lightsaber on Utapau. His gut writhed. Bile threatened to climb up his throat. He hadn’t been able to locate the  _ traitor’s _ body, either.

_ “Thus, tyranny ends!” _

Cody turned on his heel, away from the broadcast, and away from his oblivious brothers. As he shoved his way through the pack, he felt a twinge of jealousy. He wished he felt as festive as they did. But something blistered at the back of his mind, smoldering and festering like a nasty blaster burn.

He wanted to feel victorious. He was proud of what they had achieved, what all of his brothers spread across the Galaxy had done. They had rid the Republic,  _ now Empire _ , of the Jedi before the vermin could take over. The Emperor had nearly been overthrown,  _ and it was the clones who _ -

He stumbled. Bracing himself against the door to his living quarters, Cody looked from one end of the abandoned hall to the other. He didn’t remember making his way here, or  _ why _ he had even come here in the first place. Panic began to itch at the back of his mind, but he brushed it away as quickly as it came. He was just exhausted, that was all.

The commlink on his arm beeped, its red light flashing as it demanded his attention. He answered as he stepped inside his quarters, the door hissing shut behind him. 

“Cody.”

“Sir,” came the all too familiar voice of one of his brothers. It was younger sounding, softer, and he knew it was the shiny he had spoken to before the HoloNet Broadcast. “You asked me to alert you if there were any updates on the status of Commander Rex and the 332nd.”

The comm grew quiet. The silence alone told Cody more than enough, but a small, pathetic part of him refused to consider the idea. His chest constricted. 

“Spit it out, kid,” he growled.

“I’m sorry sir, but Commander Rex and the 332nd have officially been listed as MIA. Their last transmission was cut off mid report, but ARC trooper 5597 relayed that the Commander had gone missing during their search for the traitor, Ahsoka Tano.”

Jesse. That was Jesse’s number. The burning in his head had grown into a full-fledged fire, searing against his mind and screaming  _ wrong wrong wrong, something is wrong _ .

“The transmission was cut,” Cody choked, pathetically, and not at all like a Marshal Commander. He paused to clear his throat. “You said the transmission was cut short. Why?”

“I don’t know, sir, I’m sorry. The ARC trooper said that the prisoner, Maul, had also escaped, but the connection was lost there.”

_ Do something _ , a voice that was his but not  _ him _ , pleaded. It came from inside him, but it was distant, and fading, as if the speaker were being dragged kicking and screaming from his awareness. 

“Commander, sir?”

_ Wake up _ , the voice howled with an agony so fierce it made him whimper. His head felt as if it were about to combust, and he wished it would, for death was surely better than the nightmare that was tearing through his head. With a final cry, the voice was expelled from his consciousness, and there was silence.

Cody stared at his reflection. His mind was numb, almost lethargic, and it took him longer than it should have to form any semblance of a coherent thought. He remembered disconnecting the comm call, but he didn’t know when he had removed his helmet or why he had made his way to the small refresher attached to his quarters.

His eyes were bloodshot to hell. Sluggishly, he reached out to touch the cool material of the mirror. There were red streaks on his face, trailing from his eyes and dripping to the floor beneath his feet. He tilted his head to the side, fascinated as his reflection did the same. The harsh light of the refresher caught another smear of red, this time seeping from his inner ear.

Huh, he thought, that’s not good.

The datapad on his hip beeped. He didn’t startle; instead, he unclipped the datapad and read over the new orders with the same stiff motorization the droid army he once fought against was known for. He didn’t care if his thoughts were clipped and one-tracked, he didn’t care when he slipped his helmet back on without cleaning the blood from his face. He was a Commander, and although the war was over,  _ and the corruption of the Jedi scum had been stopped _ , there was still a Galaxy to protect. The Emperor needed him, and the rest of his brothers, to ensure the success of their fledgling Empire, to eliminate any threat that would dare speak out against it. 

Cody knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he would fight until his dying breath to protect the Empire. He knew it like he knew his way around a blaster, or how he could recite the most intricate of battle tactics after years of Kamino brand flash training. His loyalty to the Empire was simply a part of him now, deeply ingrained into his very soul without so much as a second thought. 

His hands trembled as he left his quarters for the bridge. Like a good soldier, he ignored it. 

* * *

_ “Did you hear they’re shutting down Kamino?” _

_ “Hey, think there’s still Jedi out there? I mean, it’s not possible, right? I-I’m not scared or anything, but-” _

_ “I heard someone from the 501st say they sold off as many of the batches that didn’t make the cutoff as they could and just drowned the rest.” _

_ “There’s no way that guy went bandit. Wolffe was crazier than any of us, but he wouldn’t go AWOL like some sort of traitor.” _

_ “Rikki said an entire company went down in the Outer Rim after one of them went crazy, just blew up the whole base like it was nothing.”  _

The whispers of his men followed him everywhere he went. For two standard weeks he endured their growing anxieties as the Empire established its new vision for the Galaxy. Regulations were amended daily, with new ones added faster than he could keep up. It was Cody’s responsibility to keep them all in the loop, and while he would always do his duty without question, he hated how uneasy his brothers grew with each new procedure.

_ “Stormtroopers? We’re Stormtroopers now?” _

_ “Did you hear? Thorin said they shut down 79’s.” _

_ “Nobody knows what really happened, but Fox is dead, the poor bastard.” _

When the new armor regulation came down, the men didn’t bother to lower their voices around him.

_ “What? They can’t do that!”  _

_ “They just did, dumbass.” _

_ “How are we supposed to tell each other apart?” _

Cody looked down at his helmet. It hadn’t hit him that soon, he and his faithful gear would be parting ways. He ran his fingers over the orange visor, tracing the gray design inked across its scuffed surface. The other troopers had already left the  _ Laatie _ , grumbling their way off the gunship and dispersing into the docking bay. He was thankful they hadn’t paid him any attention, leaving him behind to process his own inner turmoil. The men were having a hard-enough time adjusting to the new regs. It would have been a major blow to morale if they had witnessed their Commander struggle too.

_ Good soldiers follow orders _ , his conscience whispered.

But Cody didn’t feel like a very good soldier at the moment. His helmet started to rattle as his hands shook. He glared at them. As if the last two weeks securing various Jedi outposts on top of juggling endless regulation changes hadn’t been hard enough, his hands had developed a tremble over the last week. It had started slow, only a faint tremor that appeared at night or when he had nothing to keep him occupied and pacify his thoughts.

Cody held one of the offending appendages up by his face. He watched with a sort of detached, morbid curiosity as he waited for the inevitable headache that would soon follow. It didn’t matter how many preemptive stims he jabbed into himself, once the shakes stopped, that awful throb behind his right eye would start.

By the time the 212th had been ordered back to Coruscant, Cody had resigned himself to his fate. He was defective, broken, no better than a busted droid. The order for his immediate return to Kamino for decommissioning would soon be upon him. 

There came a dull parade of boots from somewhere in the hangar. His stomach dropped. Maybe he hadn’t expected the order quite that soon.

Cody turned, one fist clenched at his side, the other around the rim of his helmet. Five shock troopers, their perfect armor decorated with the distinctive red of the Coruscant Guard, waited for him. He took in their appearances one by one as something like regret began to tug at him. Memories of the now deceased Commander Fox began to swirl in his head. 

He couldn’t remember the last time he had spoken to his batchmate, much to his shame. Fox had always been the most reserved of their batch, something that irritated his other brothers to no end. Cody knew, however, that Fox was quiet because he was smart. Too smart, really. Fox had kept tabs on everything,  _ on everyone _ , hoarding away bits and pieces of information as if they were priceless gems from some exotic moon. Only later, when his intricately crafted web of knowledge and secrets had already given him the upper hand, would Fox make his move. 

Fox’s death had been locked behind so many levels of clearance, not even Cody, Marshal  _ kriffing  _ Commander of the 212th Attack Battalion, could access the full, unredacted report. Whatever had killed his brother, he knew it must have been bad.

“Commander,” the squad leader said, stepping forward and plucking Cody from his thoughts. “The Emperor has requested your presence. We are to escort you to him, immediately.”

He blinked. The Emperor had asked for him? What did the Emperor want with a broken clone? The idea left him stunned. He imagined he looked very dumb just then, if the huff of the other trooper was anything to go by. 

“If you would please come with us, sir,” the leader prompted, moving to the side. The other four had adjusted accordingly, leaving a space clearly meant for him and him alone right at the center of the squad. 

Like any good prisoner transport, they intended to box him in on all sides while their leader took point. The Commander within him approved. At least the Guard hadn’t gotten sloppy in Fox’s absence. He’d take whatever comfort he could at this point. 

“Alright,” Cody yielded. He met each of their white, plastoid faces one more time before slipping his helmet on.

He was a model detainee as he took his place at the center of their formation and allowed them to escort him to the airspeeder they had arrived on. The squad leader directed him to a seat in the middle, and he took it without question. Two of the troopers sat across from him, while the others flanked him on each side.

Their journey was silent, save for the busy ambience of Coruscant. He craned his neck once to get a good look at the Jedi Temple as they passed (it had still been smoldering in the HoloNet broadcast two weeks ago), but otherwise sat perfectly still, his head forward and hands folded together in his lap. 

It was only when they passed the Senate building, merging into a hyperlane that would take them into the heart of the Industrial District, that he felt compelled to speak. He narrowed his eyes under his helmet and turned his head to address the lead shock trooper.

“Mind telling me where you boys are taking me?” 

The troopers on either side of him stiffened. The two sitting across from him suddenly found the ground fascinating, their helmets tilted down as they kept their focus strictly on the floor.

Finally, their leader spoke. “We are under direct orders from the Emperor that we are only to deliver you.” 

“Deliver me  _ where _ , exactly?”

Nothing. Somewhere above them, an airtaxi laid down on their horn. Cody sighed. He didn’t feel like playing this game. His head hurt far too much and his hands had started to shake again.

“We’re almost there, Commander,” one of the troopers across from him blurted.

“Quiet, kid,” his superior hissed. 

Cody found that interesting. He could work with that, at least a little.

“Thanks kid,” he said casually, crossing his arms to hide the quiver of his hands as he leaned back. He sure as hell didn’t feel at ease, but he hoped by feigning a sense of cool indifference, the shock troopers would let something slip.

He thought over his next approach in silence, clenching and unclenching his jaw. It was a terrible habit that did nothing for his headache, but one that had followed him since the beginning of the war.

“Commander Fox was one of my batchmates,” Cody offered quietly. Five helmets suddenly shifted in his direction. “There’s only three of us left now. But Fox was…” He trailed off, biting his tongue in thought. “We all thought Fox would be the last man standing.”

The airspeeder slipped from the hyperlane and made for the landing pad of an immense skyscraper. The trooper to his right shuffled, his head turned away. By the time they landed, not even the squad leader could look at him. 

From the hangar at the end of the landing pad emerged four figures in crimson robes and scarlet masks. Cody recognized them as members of the recently christened  _ Imperial Royal Guard _ .

They were the Chancellor's Red Guard, the last time he saw them.

“I guess this is my stop,” Cody quipped. Rex would have laughed, but Rex wasn’t there. Rex was MIA, presumed KIA, and even though Cody was in the middle of Coruscant, surrounded on all sides by other clones, he had never felt so alone.

As one, he and the other troopers stood to meet the robed figures. The Royal Guard crossed the halfway point, and the lead shock trooper suddenly spoke.

“Commander,” he murmured, low enough for only Cody to hear.

Cody didn’t reply, his eyes trained on the approaching quartet, but he titled his chin to the side just so to indicate he was listening.

“Commander Fox was a great man.” A pause, the Royal Guards were almost to them. “He spoke very highly of you.”

That made Cody almost break his focus, and he had to stop himself from whipping his head to the side to stare at the other trooper.

“ _ Good luck, sir _ .”

One last whisper, and then the Coruscant Guard stood at attention and saluted the robed figures halted before them.

The Royal Guards didn’t speak. They never did, something that had always irritated Cody during his brief encounters with them before. Two of them simply stepped aside and gestured for him to follow. 

Cody did so, throwing a final nod over his shoulder at the retreating shock troopers. The two robed guards fell in behind him. He stared ahead as the skyscraper loomed closer. While they walked, it struck him that he hadn’t asked the Coruscant Guards their names. 

Since when did he not bother to learn his brother’s names?

He glanced at one of the guards to his left as they crossed into the hangar. Supposedly, the Royal Guard was made up of clones, but he didn’t know if he believed it. He wouldn’t bother asking their names. They wouldn’t tell him either way. 

The hangar transitioned into an elongated, desolate corridor with a lone security door at the far end. Their steps echoed off the grey durasteel walls. It made him think of being underground. He shivered. Apparently, Jango had been claustrophobic, something he hadn’t shared with the Kaminoans before agreeing to become their prime clone.

Cody hadn’t inherited the trait, like some of his brothers had, but the sensation of walking through the heart of a skyscraper yet feeling as if he were underground? It wasn’t pleasant, that was for sure. He wondered if that’s what his brothers who  _ had _ inherited prime’s claustrophobia felt like.

If the Emperor didn’t kill him, maybe he wouldn’t be so hard on Boil next time they had to crawl through some small access tunnel. It was the least he could do. He was a good brother. 

The Royal Guard halted as they reached the end of the corridor. To his surprise, they stepped out of their tight formation and posted themselves beside the security door. To their credit, he didn’t need them to speak to understand the implication. They were to wait out here, he was to go in there, and if he were a betting man, he’d risk some credits on the Emperor being on the other side of that door.

Cody reached for the door panel, ignoring the subtle tremble of his hand as he pressed down. The door pulled open to reveal a large conference room. As he stepped inside, he first noticed the impressive ceiling, and he guessed they were in one of the skyscrapers' central towers. At the center of the room was a large holotable, but perhaps even more impressively, on the other side of that, was the Emperor himself.

“Commander Cody,” the Emperor greeted. As he smirked, there was a flash of feral teeth and twisted skin from beneath his dark hood.

“My Lord,” Cody replied, standing at attention and saluting. The Emperor bid him closer, gesturing at a spot beside him. “You sent for me?”

“You and your  _ brothers _ have done the Galaxy a great service,” the Emperor said, his voice flickering with a sort of icy amusement. The way he said  _ brothers  _ made Cody feel as if he were on the outside of some sort of highly classified joke.  “The extermination of the Jedi has spared the Galaxy from their reckless carnage. At last, Commander, we are on the path to peace.” 

“It was an honor to bring the traitors to justice, my Lord.”

The Emperor cackled. It was sharp, without any of the warmth that laughter normally held. He fixed Cody with a curious sneer. 

“The Galaxy has never known such  _ loyal _ soldiers, Commander.” Abruptly, all traces of amusement fell from the Emperor’s face . He waved a hand from beneath his sleeve, and suddenly the holotable was cluttered with files, each of them marked with a portrait of what Cody knew to be fugitive Jedi. “However, as long as even a single Jedi remains, I fear we all are still in grave danger. They will not rest until the Galaxy is back in their clutches.” 

As he took in the digital faces before him, a spark went off in Cody’s head. He felt as if he had been transported back to Utapau, to the moment he had ordered his men to fire on the  _ traitor _ . It was that same feral, unshakable rage that filled him now. 

“We will not allow that, my Lord,” Cody growled. His head pounded, a thundering ache that kept in beat with the wild pace of his heart. His voice was clipped, strained, and he spoke almost instinctively. “Every last Jedi, and any who dare show loyalty to their vile Order, will be eliminated.” 

The Emperor laughed again. “Very good, Commander, very good. Your dedication is precisely why I brought you here.” A pale, sickly hand extended from the hood to usher Cody to follow. The Emperor turned, the hem of his dark robe trailing behind him as they left the conference room. “The remaining Jedi are perhaps the most dangerous, only they possessed the skills necessary to evade us. But with your expertise, I’ve no doubt Inquisitorius will bring about their extinction.” 

“The Inquisitorius, my Lord?”

The Emperor sneered, but said nothing. They had stopped at the threshold of a massive chamber, one that reminded him of the training arenas back on Kamino. There were several figures clad in black, plated armor in the midst of some sort of drill, and they each wielded a crimson lightsaber.

Another spark in his head. His eyes tracked the red streak of each blade with a predatory intensity he had never experienced before. Once again his system was overloaded with a sudden jolt of fiery, violent anger. It coursed through him, seeping into his every molecule, like it had on Utapau, and in the conference room mere moments ago. His heart pounded in his ears. 

_ Good soldiers follow orders. _

With a growl, Cody lunged forward. The Emperor cackled, flicking his hand and suddenly Cody was suspended in place. He fought against the invisible restraints, snarling, his feet scraping against the floor as he tried desperately to obey the thundering chorus of  _ good soldiers follow orders _ beating through his head. 

“Do not fear, Commander,” The Emperor said, his ghastly face pulled into a terrible smile as he came to circle around Cody. “They are not Jedi, not anymore. They are Inquisitors. Hunters.” He sneered. “As you will be.” 

Cody gasped as the burning in his veins slipped away and his vision crept back into focus. It was as if the Emperor had flipped a switch inside his head. The rage was gone, the need to wrap his hands around the throats of the saber-wielders and squeeze with all his might had just vanished. The retreat of his anger left him cold, petrified, and even a little nauseous. The voice inside his head, the one he knew was  _ his  _ but somehow not  _ him _ , was back. Something was terribly, unspeakably wrong. 

He didn’t understand what was happening to him, only that the Emperor was using the  _ Force  _ to keep him in place, and that his head felt as if it had been picked through with a pair of blunt forceps. Nothing made sense anymore, and that  _ terrified  _ him, but the Emperor only looked on in amusement as he began to panic. Cody never panicked, not once in his life had he ever truly been so washed through by fear.

“My apprentice, Lord Vader, will be here soon,” The Emperor mused. “I must warn you, he was not fond of having you here. But not to worry, Commander, he brings with him a gift. The last of your brothers, one final batch from Kamino. They are to be the first in a new generation of troopers, of which you will take charge of.” 

“My Lord?” Cody wheezed.

“Purge Troopers, Commander. Train them, ensure their discipline is of the highest quality. Make them into the  _ finest  _ weapon the Galaxy has ever seen. And then-” The Emperor smirked and lowered his skeletal hand. Cody collapsed to the ground. “And then, my friend, you will join the Inquisitorius in their mission to extinguish the last of the Jedi from the Galaxy.” 

* * *

_ Some time later  _

What had once been a sleepy village on a small, backwater moon was now in ruins. Smoke billowed from the still smoldering remains of what he guessed was at some point a grain storehouse. From somewhere in the distance, a child cried. It was low and full of the kind of sadness that seemed to ignore the plating of his armor and pierce right through it, straight into his heart.

Echo stepped delicately over the silent corpses littering the street. Their bodies were riddled with the all too distinctive marks of blaster fire. Many had fallen face first, gunned down as they ran in vain from the slaughter of the Empire. A handful of them, perhaps the most unlucky of them all, sported massive, cauterized slashes that could only have come from one thing.

A lightsaber. 

“We were too late,” Hunter cursed. “Again.”

Echo frowned, but nodded at his companion. He gripped the datachip in hand a little tighter. At least they had  _ something _ . And after they spoke with Senator Organa, one of his relief teams would take over. They would swoop in for whatever survivors were left, ensure they were taken care of and carted off somewhere safe. 

Not that anywhere was really safe from the Empire. 

They returned to the  _ Havoc Marauder _ in silence. Crosshair glanced up at them as they passed into the cabin. Beside him, Wrecker fidgeted with his helmet. He had grown almost as quiet as Crosshair in the years since the Republic fell. It still unsettled Echo. He missed his brother’s loud, boisterous voice. 

In the cockpit, Tech had already made contact with the Senator. The blue of his holoprojection complimented the sadness on his face. 

“Bad news?”

“I’m afraid so, Senator.” Hunter pulled his bucket off. Echo followed suit. “By the time we got here they were already gone. But everything lines up with prior reports. They had one of the saber users with them, this time.”

The Senator sighed, his shoulders slumped. “Survivors?”

“A few,” Echo answered. “They were pretty shaken up. We tried talking to some of them but uh,” he frowned, turning the datachip over in his hand. It suddenly felt very heavy. “But I’d recognize lightsaber burns anywhere, sir.” 

“I see. Do we know what they were after this time?”

The two clones exchanged a look. The datachip burned in his palm. 

“Go ahead, Echo,” Hunter said slowly. “Show him.”

Echo nodded. “We were able to recover footage from a busted labor droid.” He handed the chip over to Tech, who diligently plugged it into the ship’s mainframe. “It’s a bit corrupted, sir, but I was able to isolate and enhance one of the frames.”

With a hum, a still image was suddenly projected before them. Two dark, armored figures stood before a crumpled body with a gruesome slash across its chest. Still clutched in the corpse’s right hand was the silver hilt of a petite lightsaber. Echo watched as Senator Organa took in the scene. The taller of the two figures had his helmet clutched in one hand, his face turned to the side as he conversed with the other, who held a sinister, burning red blade. 

They were lucky, really. The angle of the man’s face couldn’t have been more perfect at highlighting the distinctive, twisted scar that snaked around his left eye. Echo knew the moment the Senator spotted it, as the dark realization was written across his tired face.

“It’s him sir,” Echo said. 

“And so it is,” Senator Organa agreed solemnly. “It’s true, then. The Empire has dispersed these...Purge Troopers…”

“To hunt Jedi, sir,” Hunter finished for him. “And Commander Cody is leading them.” 

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Fun Fact: Purge Trooper armor is actually just a lightsaber resistant version of phase two clone paratrooper armor~
> 
> I've been fascinated by the Purge Troopers since playing Jedi Fallen Order, and when season 7 of clone wars didn't give us any closure on Cody, I thought hey, what if Cody became a Purge Trooper. Did some research, read the Vader comics, and this story was born. At some point in the future I may get around to writing a continuation of this story that follows Cody and the Bad Batch but for now, this is it. Thank you so much for reading!


End file.
